


Perfect

by extraction_iv



Series: The Many Mundane Adventures of Inquisitor Nolan Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4656117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraction_iv/pseuds/extraction_iv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just something I wish the Inquisitor would have mentioned during Dorian's romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

The words stuck to the inside of the Inquisitor's skull, playing over and over again the entire trip back from Redcliffe.

"Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distill the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader."

When he had emerged from the Gull & Lantern alone, Nolan had offered absolutely no answer to Varric or Solas. Varric had pressed only for a moment: "Where's Sparkler? We're leaving him here?" The dwarf had been quickly assuaged by a curt excuse: that Dorian had business to finish, and that he would meet them back at Skyhold as soon as he could. Solas did not pry: he did cast Nolan a weary glance, and Nolan had to nod back and wave his hand in dismissal. The topic was dropped without a further incident, and after dispatching Inquisition scouts to wait outside of the tavern and assure Dorian's safe return to Skyhold, the trio set off back to Skyhold. All the while, the thought about those words. He thought about the pain behind them, pondered what he could say to erase the belief that his feelings were aberrations. He came up with nothing, and the nothingness distressed him and forced him to reconsider until he was stuck in a cycle of contemplation and frustration. By the time they returned to Skyhold, he was exhausted with himself.

Nolan made certain to keep an open ear out for Dorian's return. He distracted himself with miniscule tasks: he walked around the infirmary to see if the healers could use the help of a rogue with no experience in healing magic and was shooed affectionately away; he sat in the tavern and listened to Maryden sing now-familiar songs that he had never heard before his draft into the Inquisition until his behind was sore; he sat outside with Scout Harding and chit-chatted about the things that she saw and her interactions with the people in Skyhold and wished her a fond fair-well when she had to leave once more; he even held some of Blackwall's tools as he worked silently on the rocking horse that he had been carving until Blackwall retired to the tavern. Any and everything to attempt to erase those strained words from the forefront of his mind.

It was not until late evening that Nolan heard word of Dorian's return. He was in the midst of an escalating argument with Josephine over the lack of diplomacy that he was approaching a relatively unimportant matter with when one of Leliana's agents slipped silently into the room. The young agent handed her a piece of paper and then bowed out of the room, receiving only a glance from the arguing parties. As Leliana read, Nolan insisted:

"Our troops need to build this bridge. I do not want the Inquisition in someone else's debt. Our people are completely capable, and we already owe others so many favors…"

"It's true. And our men and women are more than capable of taking care of this. Let them."

Josephine was ready to retort when Leliana interrupted: "Perhaps this is a good time to stop, hm?" She held the letter out to Nolan, but was beginning to explain it before he could take it from her hand. "Lord Pavus has returned to Skyhold."

The elf took a deep breath and looked down at the letters on the page without reading them. "Then this is in fact a good time to stop." He mused, taking one of the hair pins out of his bun and moving it to another spot to keep hair from falling in his face. "Josephine, you know I respect you and I take your advice very seriously. I still want Cullen's people on this one." He tapped his knuckles against the war table. When he was met with silence, he thanked ambassador, spy-master, and commander each individually before turning on his heels and leaving the room with haste. He all but sprinted through the main hall, bowing his head absent-mindedly at nobles that greeted him.

Varric turned in his seat when Nolan approached. "Sparkler looked rough." He informed without being asked. "May not be a good idea to bother him now."

Nolan smiled down at the dwarf. "Did he have any alcohol with him?"

"Not yet. The night is still young."

"Then he's likely sober. I'd say," Nolan opened the door to the library without looking away from Varric, "that it's the perfect time to bother him."

"All right~!" Varric waved him off with a sing-song reluctance. Nolan chuckled and stepped in, closing the door behind him.

Solas looked up from his desk. "He has been surprisingly silent." The apostate whispered the warning.

Nolan nodded and mouthed a thank-you. With his heart pounding against his temples, he ascended the spiral staircase. When he could see the top of the staircase, he craned his neck and trying to steal a glimpse of the altus. He could not see Dorian. It was not until he was completely standing in front of the nook that Dorian spent the vast majority of his time in that Nolan could see Dorian. He stood leaned against the window, staring out into the horizon. Nolan could not see the man's face. He took a step into the space, breathing just loudly enough to let Dorian know that he was there.

With a sigh, Dorian turned his head to look at the intruder. When he saw Nolan, he turned back towards the window. "He says we're alike. Too much pride. Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that." Dorian scowled as though he had been hit. With a small shake of his head, he continued: "Now I'm not so certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."

There was so much that Nolan wanted to say. He wanted to apologize for the experience: he could not imagine a parent performing blood magic on their child simply for their sexual preferences, and he could not pretend to understand Dorian's pain. But Dorian was a proud man, and apologies would have sounded like pity. Pity was the last thing that Nolan knew the man to want. His heart ached and his eyes burned with rage and sympathy all at once. The Inquisitor wanted to reach out and pull Dorian to him, to whisper that everything would be all right, but this was not the moment.

He settled for asking: "Are you all right?"

"No." There was a hint of gratitude in Dorian's tone. He shook his head and almost smiled, but the upturn of his lips did not reach his eyes. "Not really."

There was a beat of silence. Nolan shifted his weight from one leg to the other, drumming his fingers against his sides. He anticipated that Dorian would ask to be left alone: Nolan prepared himself to offer condolences and a shoulder for when the other man was ready to talk about it, but Dorian pushed against the window and turned to face Nolan.

"Thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn't what I expected, but…" For the first time, their eyes met. Nolan could feel his breath catch in his lungs: devastated, with his heartache raw and on display for only the elf to see, Dorian looked more beautiful than he had ever seen him. While Nolan was still entranced, Dorian continued, oblivious: "it was something. Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display."

"I don't think less of you." Nolan insisted. "More, if possible." 

A smile sweeter than honey grazed Dorian's face. "The things you say."

"I mean it." Nolan allowed desperation to bleed through his words: desperation to be understood, to be trusted, to bring some sort of joy and peace to Dorian.

"My father never understood." Dorian's expression fell once more. "Living a lie… it festers inside of you, like poison." Rightfully self-righteous, he scowled as though he was looking the lie that he had been expected to live in the eye. He broke the eye contact that he held with Nolan, furrowing his brow. "You have to fight for what is in your heart."

"I…" The words struck a chord with Nolan, and his chest swelled with affection and respect for the man before him. And suddenly, courage found itself pushing his feet forwards and he relayed the sentiment: "I agree." 

The two strides that it took to bring him close to Dorian took most of his confidence. Nolan stopped toe-to-toe with the taller Tevinter and regarded Dorian's expression carefully. First, the man's brow furrowed more: he was obviously confused by the sudden closeness. And while that reluctance was there, Nolan's heart beat fast and hard against his chest. But the tension rose from Dorian's brow and he looked down at Nolan's lips and closed his eyes. It was all of the encouragement that Nolan needed to lean forward and press their lips together. He placed a reluctant hand on Dorian's hip and was overjoyed to have Dorian return the gesture by resting a hand at the nape of his neck. They exchanged a few chaste kisses before Dorian pulled away.

Façade of bravado brilliantly back in place, Dorian teased: "I see you like playing with fire, Inquisitor."

"Perhaps." The moment was fading, and Nolan could feel Dorian retreating into himself again. Still breathless and flushed, Nolan chuckled and added: "You said that families in Tevinter are attempting to create the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind?"

Dorian raised an eyebrow, dropping his hand back to his side. Nolan let his hand linger on Dorian's hip for just a second longer before dropping his hand, as well.

"If that's the case, your parents should be immensely proud of what they have accomplished in creating you." It was the most that Nolan could say: he could feel his ears flush and could no longer meet Dorian's eyes. He looked down at the pile of books next to Dorian's chair so that he could not see Dorian's expression. 

And with that, the moment was gone. Dorian took a step back, and when Nolan looked back up, he caught a kiss of pink in the mage's cheeks, as well. "At any rate," Dorian looked away the moment that Nolan caught his gaze again, grinning from ear-to-ear, "time to drink myself into a stupor. It's been that sort of day."

Nolan understood that logic, and nodded his head and stepped aside to give Dorian room.

"Join me sometime," Dorian added, beginning to slip out of the nook, "if you've a mind."

Nolan touched his hand to his lips. Joyful laughter bubbled up in the back of his throat. He wanted to jump for joy and scream his satisfaction to all of Thedas. Instead, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. The Inquisitor turned to resume his duties, a new bounce in every step.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a short one-shot that I've been thinking about for a while. Thanks for reading!


End file.
